


Loving conspiracies

by down



Category: Cadfael Chronicles - Ellis Peters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-22
Updated: 2013-12-22
Packaged: 2018-01-05 14:53:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1095301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/down/pseuds/down
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>February was giving way to March, and the long winter fading into the promise of spring. The air was still crisp and the water sheeted with ice every morning in ponds and in puddles, but there were flowers adding spots of colour to the hedges and banks, and to Cadfael’s garden; most of them should not have been there, but he enjoyed the sight too much to remove them before the space was needed by other things. And indeed, the sight itself was a medicine for hearts weary of bare soil, as was the woman who had stopped to admire the sweet violets which had made their way into the hedgerow. </em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Loving conspiracies

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kendermaus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kendermaus/gifts).



> I hope you don't mind fluff, because Aline and Cadfael and Hugh are wonderful together and apparently I really wanted to write them conspiring to look after each other? Because, yes, they do fit, however deeply you want to read into that! 
> 
> Set in spring 1142, between 'The Raven In The Foregate' and 'The Rose Rent'. 
> 
> Thanks to Borusa for the swift beta-reading.

February was giving way to March, and the long winter fading into the promise of spring. The air was still crisp and the water sheeted with ice every morning in ponds and in puddles, but there were flowers adding spots of colour to the hedges and banks, and to Cadfael’s garden; most of them should not have been there, but he enjoyed the sight too much to remove them before the space was needed by other things. And indeed, the sight itself was a medicine for hearts weary of bare soil, as was the woman who had stopped to admire the sweet violets which had made their way into the hedgerow. 

Though Hugh Beringar visited Shrewsbury regularly on the Sheriff‘s business, recently become his own, Cadfael saw Aline far less regularly. With the keeping of Maesbury added to that of the two castles she had in her own right from her father, there were many calls upon her time. Their son, Giles, was another – at just turned two years old, he was old enough to get into everything and not enough to have any caution when doing so. As such, he had been left safely with his nurse in Maesbury the last time Aline had come to Shrewsbury – from the lack of any small child hurrying towards the muddiest corners of the garden, Cadfael assumed the same must be true of now. 

He was always glad to see his godson, but had to admit to a measure of relief that he was not here; having learned to use his tongue, Giles was now developing his vocabulary – at volume. And Chapter this morning had left Cadfael with a nagging headache which refused to ease away, even now he was out in the cool air. There was, he reckoned ruefully, only so much of Prior Robert’s voice that anyone could take. 

Aline saw him then, and came forward with a smile, and her hands outstretched. “Cadfael! I am glad to see you.” She paused, studying him. “But you look pale. Are you well?” 

“Merely tired from helping with the Brothers who have been falling to this cold which has been passing about from one to the other, compounded with Prior Robert’s sermoning in Chapter. Nothing that a visit from you cannot heal!” He told her, taking her hands in his, smiling back. “What brings you to Shrewsbury – and who have you brought with you?” 

“Business with the merchants who supply the Castle. I am renegotiating the provisioning of the garrison, while Hugh is here to make certain his people know their duties and are as content with him as Sheriff as King Stephen seems to be. If, however, you are asking after my son, I’m afraid we left him behind. At least in Maesbury, with a household who knows him to watch out, the trouble he can get himself into is restricted somewhat – I only wish I could say the same for Hugh!” Her voice, clear and usually steady, shook a little on the last words. 

“What has Hugh done?” Cadfael asked, and if he gripped her hands a little tighter then, Aline merely held back just as tightly. 

“Fallen from his horse, of all things!” She said, with a laugh which still quavered. “Just as we arrived in town, not an hour ago. He fell onto his head as well – he was only disoriented, and claims that beyond a headache and his bruises that there is nothing much wrong with him, but I would like for you to come and see him, and make certain he is right! …I am sure Hugh is fine, truly, but I would like the reassurance of your opinion, and I know he would be glad to see you.” 

“Then we’ll ask Father Abbot for permission to miss Sext, and I will come with you straight away, only let me collect a few things first.” Cadfael said, listing in his mind all the things he might need for a head wound, trying to ignore the worry which began to nag at him, threatening to increase his headache. 

Aline smiled at that, though the smile was a little smaller than usual. “Collecting what you will need before you have permission, Cadfael?” 

“We both know that Hugh and Abbot Radulfus are of too much help to each other to grudge my missing offices today.” Cadfael ducked aside into his workshop as he spoke, reaching for the things which might be needed. The scent of the herbs was concentrated inside, and he sneezed as he brushed past the hanging bunches of lavender. 

Aline followed him, going straight to the bottles of the cold remedy he had spent much of the last month either making or dosing people with. “May I have some more of this?” She asked, picking up a few bottles. “Hugh brought some back when he came last to Shrewsbury, but we have used it all this winter. I think the only one of us who has not had some need of it was Giles. Even Hugh had a cough for a few weeks…” 

“Take it and welcome, I have made enough to dose the whole Foregate thrice over, and hopefully the warmer weather today means an end to the sneezing… and there, betony, that’s the last of them.” He stood, lifting the bag which now contained all he could think of that Hugh might need, and sneezed again. “I must air this place out soon.” He muttered, wincing slightly as they stepped into the light again. 

The two of them crossed out of the garden to the Abbot’s residence. Abbot Radulfus received them genially, and listened to Cafael’s brief request to be absent until the evening services, though before he could grant it, Aline spoke up. 

“If I might – Father Abbot, I am worried about this blow my husband has taken, more than I would like to let him know.” she said, stepping forward towards the Abbot with an appeal in her voice. “I have seen it before, that a man who strikes his head may seem little more than bruised for several hours, and then fall into difficulty, even die of the wound too fast for help to be summoned. My husband is a stubborn man, and I love him dearly; should he feel able, he will surely take it upon himself to stir from his rest and find some more strenuous occupation. I cannot speak with any authority on matters of injury, having seen so short a span of years; but Brother Cadfael has experience and authority in such things. Would you be able to spare him to us, until I can feel certain there is no danger?” 

She stood calmly before the Abbot, hands folded before her, and waited patiently as he considered her request. There was no pleading and no overwrought tension in her posture or her stance, she merely stood in silence, and Abbot Radulfus looked from her to Cadfael, and back again with a raised eyebrow. 

“Well, Brother, so long as you have finished your duties here for the day, I do not see that we should not spare you to another with need. You may take as long as necessary to ensure our Sheriff is mending well; though I shall expect a message if you are not able to return in time for… say Terce, tomorrow, so your work may be passed to another should you be unavailable.” 

“Terce, Father Abbot?” Cadfael asked, somewhat startled. Nine was far later than he would have expected to be excused until. But then, Abbot Radulfus was a man more in touch with the world than Abbot Heribert had ever been, and had long since formed a strong beneficial relationship with Hugh, one which should stand him in good stead now that King Stephen had confirmed Hugh in office as Sheriff. 

“We are expecting no great matters to arise at Chapter, and Brother Edmund in the Infirmary knows where all the usual remedies are kept, should he run short.” Nodding once more, firmly, Radulfus turned his attention back on Aline. “I hope you will send Brother Cadfael back to us soon with the news that your husband is mending fast, my lady.” 

“Thank you, Father Abbot.” Aline said, with a graceful bow of her head. Cadfael followed her as she swept from the room, and watched the small smile growing on her face. “Well, at the very least we may now keep you for the day.” She observed, and Cadfael shook his head. 

“And elegantly done it was, too,” he said, glancing at her. 

“You doubt I told the whole of the truth to Abbot Radulfus, with him watching sharp-eyed for any lie?” A laugh danced through Aline’s voice, like the strands of glimmering gold hair which escaped their braids to dance about her face. “You said to me, once – ‘if you ever succeed in preventing Hugh Beringar from doing whatever he’s set his mind on doing, then come to me and tell me how you managed it.’ Well, the best way I know is to ensure he crosses paths with you! You might not stop him from doing what he is determined on, but you have a way of turning his feet onto a better path to reaching his goals.” 

Cadfael laughed. “And I have long since used the thought of your unhappiness to keep him from the worst moments of recklessness.” 

“It seems we have found the same remedy, after all – though I remember vividly you saying that you doubted my methods would work for you.” Aline smiled, though she sobered again swiftly afterwards. “As I said, I would welcome the reassurance. And though he might not admit to hurting, I am sure that your company would be a welcome distraction, because even if he is only bruised a little I doubt he should be rushing around after people today.” 

* * *

She led him not to the Castle, as Cadfael might have expected, but to their house in the town itself, and there to the room where Hugh lay restlessly on the bed, under orders not to move too far and with Aline’s faithful Constance there to watch over him, hands busy with spindle and wool. As Aline and Cadfael entered, she looked up, smiled, and got to her feet. “I’ll leave him to your care, and patience!” She said to Cadfael, as she passed out of the room. 

Aline was already at Hugh’s side, pressing a kiss to his forehead and murmuring in his ear as he sat up; and then Hugh was smiling ruefully across the room, and a tension went out of Cadfael’s body so swiftly he felt slightly light-headed. 

“So you have heard of my inelegant arrival this morning, too, Cadfael?” 

“Yes, though I hear you claim your head is too hard to have taken much damage from it.” Cadfael came to stand by the bed, and Hugh let his head be carefully turned and pressed. 

“I may have overstated the case slightly.” Hugh admitted. “But doubtless my head will stop ringing soon enough.” 

Cadfael shook his head. “However did you manage to come off your horse at all? It’s most unlike you to tip over without reason.” 

“It was none of my doing, I promise you! The girth snapped when I shifted to dismount. One of the buckles had a sharp edge, which had been wearing away at the leather, all unnoticed – it finally gave way today, and down I went.” 

“I don’t know who was more distressed.” Aline said, leaning in to watch Cadfael’s hands on Hugh’s head. “The horse, or the man.” 

“The horse, at first, until my head stopped rattling enough for me to fear for my dignity.” Hugh said, with a sigh. 

There was a lump which made Hugh hiss and flinch away when Cadfael’s fingers brushed over it, but nothing to worry anyone unduly; he passed this on to Aline, who sighed, smiling back at him while they both ignored Hugh’s grumbling about being prodded. 

“If you would like to keep your dignity, my lord, then perhaps you should learn to fall without injury to yourself.” Aline’s smile was radiant now she was reassured her husband had truly taken no real hurt. “But now you are safe in Brother Cadfael’s hands, I have things I must see to, rather than chasing about after you.” She stepped forwards and pressed her lips to Cadfael’s brow, then made for the door. 

“What, no parting kiss for your husband, even though he’s injured?” Hugh asked, lifting his head to watch her; there was a laugh dancing in his voice, for all he was wincing now under Cadfael’s exploratory prodding at his neck and shoulders. His wife shook her head, with an overloud sigh. 

“And encourage foolish behaviour, by rewarding you? No, my lord, I think not.” Aline smiled back at them both. “Brother Cadfael is earning his reward by ensuring you do nothing else of the sort, at least today, where as you have earned for yourself the right to an aching head and stiff shoulders. If you behave yourself for at least one day, you may claim your kiss then.” 

Hugh dropped his head again. “A woefully difficult task, but I shall endeavour to win my prize, with Cadfael as my witness!” 

Cadfael laughed, focusing again on the bruises already flowering across Hugh’s shoulders. “I shall make my report faithfully, mind. I shall not be bribed to hold my tongue.” 

“I should expect nothing less. You were Aline’s friend before you ever made up your mind about me, she has after all the prior claim.” 

“As our conspiracy to keep you whole is built on the love we share for you, it is in effect your own fault; if you had not managed to win affection, then you would not be victim of our fretting when you are harmed.” Cadfael said, calmly enough, as Aline slipped from the room to see to her business – and, no doubt, to whatever Hugh had meant to set about this afternoon. “You will have more than just stiff shoulders by the morrow, I suspect; the muscles in this arm are like rock, not flesh; it will take several days before they forgive you the wrench they must have taken. I have a lotion which will help with that.” He suited action to words, fetching it out of the supplies he had brought, and helping Hugh divest himself of his shirt so it could be rubbed in. 

Hugh’s skin was warm under Cadfael’s hands, and marked with more than a few scars; he had tended to a fair few of the wounds himself, and was ever grateful there had been nothing beyond his ability to help. But he must have distilled it a little too long, this time; the smell of it was heavy in the air, tickling his nose. 

“Well, when you’re done, I’ll agree to resting as long as you’ll agree to keep me company. We can trade all the gossip we know, and when I go about talking to people tomorrow they’ll wonder how I can possibly have heard about their recent illness, or cousin Idris’s broken leg. You’ll have to sit beside me here, though. It’s more comfortable, and I am not raising my voice to yell across the room with my head pounding like this.” 

As Cadfael’s own headache was still present, he had no objection to this plan, with only the comment that Hugh had best sleep if he started to feel tired. He sat listening to Hugh talk about the rumours circulating that Stephen’s illness was serious enough that, though he had only this past Christmas been re-crowned as King, England might yet be in the hands of the Empress by Easter. 

In fact, it was warm, and comfortable, and Hugh’s presence was soothing. Cadfael barely noticed when his own head started nodding. 

* * *

Cadfael woke to a room full of nearly stifling warmth and a deep-night darkness, the strange heavy softness of feather-filled bedding resting over him, and someone laying so close by his side that the extra heat prickled at his skin. His very head felt muffled, and overlarge, an ache resting at his temples. 

The person beside him stirred, and then the mattress shifted as they propped themselves up a few inches. “Hugh,” Cadfael said, his thoughts coming slow. “I appear to be asleep in your bed.” His voice scraped at his dry throat; his own bed was only ever this warm in high summer. 

There was a quiet laugh, and a hand calloused from work with sword and bow and reins rested against Cadfael’s forehead for a moment, though it was pulled away before Cadfael could gather his wits to protest it. “Not so asleep as you should be, my friend.” 

“I should be at Matins. You are well enough for Aline to watch without worry, I should have returned to the Abbey hours ago.” Cadfael grumbled, rubbing at his head, and the headache pressing there. He was not used to sleeping so deeply, so many hours in a row; having developed his own happy rule of catnapping through Chapter and other corners of the day when he was not needed, his body was not used to resting so long without being disturbed. 

“You should lie still, and rest while you can.” A softer voice, this, a little further away; Aline slipped from the bed on Hugh’s other side and walked about it; she was at his side a few moments later, her hand brushing lightly where Hugh’s had rested, then she was offering him a cup with one of his own mixtures in it. 

“I do not need anything, I am perfectly well.” Cadfael told her, trying to push himself more upright. The bed seemed to be tilting below him strangely; he was not used to a mattress like this, he told himself. “If I am hot, it is only because it is so warm; even if you will not let me return to the Abbey until morning, surely there is somewhere else I might sleep?” 

“And leave us to worry about you and this fever you are denying? Certainly not.” Hugh said, while Aline pressed the cup into Cadfael’s hands. “You have tended enough people suffering from a cold to recognise the symptoms, surely.” 

Surrounded by their concern, Cadfael accepted the draught, and said a silent apology for the service he was missing. The cup was taken away, and he lay back down again, resolving to at least wake in time to return to the Abbey for Prime, at least. 

* * *

Sunlight was pouring through the unshuttered windows when he woke again, and Cadfael winced as he opened his eyes, headache pressing at him worse than it had the day before. His throat was still rough, and he could admit now that it was not the heat of any bed which had made it so. In truth, he felt altogether wrung-out and limp, and in no mood to do anything but fall asleep again. 

Nor was he alone, even now. As he stirred, Hugh rose from his seat by the window, and brought a cup across with him as he came to the bed. 

“Aline has sent to Abbot Radulfus, explaining that you have taken ill with the same fever you have spent the last two weeks treating in the town.” Hugh said, as Cadfael drank; wine, this time. “She told him that we would keep you until you are ready to take up your duties again; with this spring cold going about the Abbey’s Infirmary must be full enough already. He sent back his ready agreement, and hopes for your swift return to health – as well as mine.” 

“Indeed, you seem suspiciously well, this morning,” Cadfael told Hugh, who grinned back at him so unrepentantly that Cadfael could not find it in himself to be irritated with the conspiracy which had kept him resting through the night and late into the morning. 

“Well, Aline said she thought we’d best keep you until you didn’t look so worn, and my head still does ache. If not, perhaps, as badly as I implied…” 

“And now you are under orders to keep me company, as I was to keep you?” From the shortness of the shadows in the room, he was waking too late to make it back in time for Terce even if he left now, so Cadfael gave up thoughts of leaving altogether. If Father Abbot had bid him stay and recover, who was he to refuse the gift? 

“As well as instruction not to strain myself. I ache all through, but Aline seems to be in possession of half your workshop, and I have been thoroughly attended to; that rub you have for sore muscles smells so strongly I was sure it would wake you.” 

Cadfael made a rueful face at him. “I seem incapable of smelling anything at all, this morning.” 

“That would be the cold which you were so fervently denying earlier.” Hugh told him, with a laugh. “Are you still insisting you are well?” 

“Not when you and Aline both insist otherwise. I would not dare.” 

“Well, and why should I not help to conspire against you, when you are so ready to do so against me?” Hugh said, cheerful. He took the cup away, now Cadfael had finished the wine, and brought another across – this with a measured dose of the brown syrup Cadfael recognised as his own, now it was light, though he could smell none of the ingredients – not the mustard, nor the mint or bay, let alone the less aromatic herbs. The very bottle Aline had claimed the day before, when she first saw him. 

He drank it down, without arguing. “Are you trying to win another kiss from my wife, Cadfael?” Hugh asked, grinning when Cadfael glared up at him. “I do not remember you being so easy to look after before. In fact, I believe I remember Brother Edmund telling me once how once you were in the Infirmary yourself with a bad cold, and when he returned after Chapter he found you out of bed and sat treating a lad who had been brought in with a broken arm.” 

“As I doubt I could escape from this place without you or Aline catching me and bringing me back, why should I try?” Cadfael murmured. His eyes were trying to close again, headache easing as the light was shut out by heavy eyelids, and it was comfortably warm in the bed. The mattress was delightfully soft under his old bones – and as he had taken no part in arranging this holiday, he felt no guilt in taking advantage of it. 

Hugh went back to the chair he had vacated, and the ledger beside it. It wasn’t long before Aline joined them again, her hands busy with some mending while she watched over both of them. She hummed under her breath as she worked, and Hugh murmured comments about the numbers as he added; to those sounds, Cadfael fell asleep again. The loving conspiracy with which Aline and Hugh were keeping him where they could tend to him was better comfort than any draught he could make in his workshop, and he was sure to be well again soon. 


End file.
